


The Significance of Pancakes

by StarrySkies282



Series: Heaven Help a Fool Who Falls in Love [11]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Ceiling Vent Clint Barton, Dialogue Heavy, Domestic Avengers, F/F, Fluff, Natasha Romanov is So Done, Pancakes, and maybe Steve, clint is an awful singer, my attempts at humour, nat is great at cooking, soft, with everyone except Wanda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-14
Updated: 2020-01-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:20:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22256344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarrySkies282/pseuds/StarrySkies282
Summary: Mornings were always a busy affair at the base. Especially the ones that came after a particularly long or gruelling mission.Natasha however, was up with the sun, or rather, before, rooting around in the kitchen, searching for the ideal pan for pancakes and cursing Tony Stark into oblivion for not having invested in a decent one, despite his wealth.
Relationships: Wanda Maximoff/Natasha Romanov
Series: Heaven Help a Fool Who Falls in Love [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1424389
Comments: 4
Kudos: 98





	The Significance of Pancakes

Mornings were always a busy affair at the base. Especially the ones that came after a particularly long or gruelling mission.

Natasha however, was up with the sun, or rather, before, rooting around in the kitchen, searching for the ideal pan for pancakes and cursing Tony Stark into oblivion for not having invested in a decent one, despite his wealth.

Sighing, she found one that would _just about_ do and set it atop the counter before going to hunt down the various ingredients she would need.

She was halfway through the batter when a sleepy-looking Wanda appeared before her in the kitchen, blinking in the rather garish lights Tony had installed.

“What are you doing up?” asks Natasha, by way of greeting. She’s come to learn that Wanda normally sleeps in.

“Well, you were gone. And it was cold,” she shivers, as though to emphasise her point and Natasha smiles.

“C’mere,” the redhead orders, arms open, and Wanda obeys, soaking up the warmth and comfort that is Natasha. 

“What’cha making?”

“It will be pancakes, if I am allowed to finish,” teases Natasha.

(Wanda is still wrapped around her).

“Care to help?”

“Of course,” the brunette replies.

(As if she’d rather be doing anything else).

“Do you think you could fry the bacon?”

“Bacon?” Wanda asks, wrinkling her nose. “With pancakes?”

“Clint.” responds Natasha, rolling her eyes skywards.

Wanda snorts because _obviously_ only Clint would do something like that. Nonetheless, she gets to work. 

“Thought you’d want to sleep in a bit,” Natasha says conversationally as she whips cream.

“Well... it’s sort of hard when the bed is cold,” retorts Wanda, elbowing Natasha in the ribs.

Natasha pretends to be annoyed but in fact is secretly rather flattered that she’s wanted so much by Wanda, although she’ll never admit it. Instead she draws the younger woman closer to her and plants a soft kiss to her lips. 

“ _She was a punk, she did ballet, what more can I saaaay!_ ” Comes a voice suspiciously like Clint’s singing off-key, which prompts Wanda to squeak and look around wildly for its source.

Natasha, used to Clint’s shenanigans looks up and sighs heavily.

“Clinton Francis Barton if you don’t shut up right now I’m going to break your kneecaps so youll never crawl through those vents again!” As if to illustrate her point, she throws her spatula at the ceiling vent, where it catches, causing the vent to swing open, the unsuspecting Clint falling to the floor. 

“ _Oww_! I think my kneecaps are already broken,” groans Clint, hauling himself to his feet and brushing dust from his hair.

“Such a drama queen,” admonishes Natasha, shaking her head whilst Wanda tries unsuccessfully to suppress her laughter.

“What on _earth_ is going on in here?” Tony asks accusingly as he saunters into the kitchen, looking from Wanda to Natasha to Clint, eyes coming to rest on the vent cover lying haphazardly on the floor. “You better not have been in my vents again, Barton. Because so help me. Remember what happened last time, when you decided to eat nachos in them—I mean how does someone even _manage_ to make that many crumbs? Were you intentionally eating over the vents so the crumbs would rain down onto anyone who happened to be beneath them?” 

“Those were good nachos,” remembers Clint fondly, much to Tony’s annoyance. “But seriously, I’ve been awake for less than an hour and already I’ve been threatened twice.”

“Twice?” Tony asks, gleefully.

“For atrotious singing,” supplies Natasha.

“A worthy reason” he says, and then “ooh, Nat, are those pancakes?”

“Well, they will be if I can actually make them.”

“Is there bacon?” asks Clint, hopefully looking around.

“There is, but there won’t be for you if you don’t find a way to redeem yourself fast,” says Natasha smoothly.

“I guess I’ll set the table then,” says Clint, grabbing a stack of plates from the drawer. 

“Morning,” calls Steve as he and Sam enter, back from their morning run. 

“Didn’t think you would all be up at this time,” says Sam.

“Yes, well, I’m making pancakes, Wanda’s helping, Clint’s being useless and Tony’s awake because of Clint’s atrocious singing.”

“Ah I see,” says Sam, and then doing a double-take: “did you say pancakes?”

“Yes, but only if you shower first. I will not have sweaty men in my kitchen,” says Natasha, waving her spatula at the pair.

“Technically it’s _my_ kitchen,” Tony points out unhelpfully, whereupon Natasha hands him a punnet of strawberries to slice up. He obeys, and gets chopping, leaving Natasha to ladle batter into the already-hot pan. 

-

“What’s going on, guys, I thought everyone was sleeping in today?” Comes Rhodey’s voice from the kitchen doorway.

“We were, but now there are pancakes,” states Clint matter-of-factly.

“Ah,” says Rhodey, “that explains it.”

“Explains what Mr Rhodes?” Asks Vision who phases through the wall into the kitchen, earning a look of disapproval from Wanda.

“Pancakes.” replies Rhodey simply.

“I’m afraid I don’t quite understand,” the Android says politely.

“What’s he confused about now?” Asks Sam, returning from his shower.

“The significance of pancakes,” answers Vision in his usual tone.

“Oh, pancakes, they’re... like... heaven,” ends Sam fondly, ogling the stack of pancakes building up.

Vision, still not fully grasping ‘the significance of pancakes’ just nods.

“The significance of pancakes,” pipes up Wanda, “is that they taste amazing, especially Natasha’s, they’re like fluffy pillows and are great with maple syrup.”

“And bacon,” Clint informs everyone.

“I see,” says Vision quietly.

“Bacon’s done,” Wanda says aside to Natasha, putting it onto a plate with her nose wrinkled. (She’s still not convinced this combination should be allowed).

“You go over and sit down,” she replies, placing a kiss to the side of Wanda’s head.

“Ewww,” Tony cries out, and Natasha throws her spatula at him. He ducks and it flies past Steve, narrowly missing him as he walks through the door.

Steve just sighs, he’s not sure he wants to ask what warranted Natasha hurling a spatula at Tony, but he’s just glad this time it’s not a knife. 

He picks up said spatula and puts it in the sink. “Need any help?” He asks Natasha, who switches off the hob.

“Sure. Here,” she hands Steve the plate of pancakes and a bottle of maple syrup, who takes them, setting them down on the table where they are immediately descended upon by the other avengers. 

“This tastes amazing, Tasha,” says Clint, barely coherent with his mouth full, spewing chewed-up flecks of pancake which land on the unfortunate Vision’s face.

“Oops, sorry buddy,” apologises Clint, handing the android a napkin.

“Clint don’t eat and talk,” the former assassin reminds him sharply, coming over with Wanda’s camomile tea and the coffee pot.

“I wish _I_ could make pancakes like this,” Clint says wistfully.

“I mean I would teach you but I don’t think Tony wants his kitchen destroyed,” Nat responds.

“I’m not _that_ bad.”

“You set fire to a pan of water that time Laura asked you to boil pasta!”

“How is that even possible?” Sam asks, genuinely confused.

“Exactly. I rest my case,” Natasha finishes smugly.

Taking her place at the table, she notices that Wanda hasn’t touched her food yet. Instead, she waits until Natasha has served herself before beginning.

It’s such a simple act and yet Natasha is touched at this acknowledgement. This appreciation shown to her, how it makes her feel so _needed_ , so _important_.

As she moves to pick up her fork, she catches the brunette’s eyes, the morning sun defining their blue, and she swears she can _feel_ the warmth radiating from the smile Wanda fixes her with.

And if it’s only to see that smile more often, Natasha decides that she will definitely be making pancakes a regular occurrence. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed. Would love to hear your thoughts x


End file.
